Beautiful Dreamer
by BoukenSpirit
Summary: SummerxDillon fluff, set the evening of Blitz... Edited: added more fluff after "Ghosts"
1. Beautiful Dreamer

This is set the evening after Blitz… just a little Summer/Dillon fluff. (points if you know the title)

**Beautiful Dreamer**

Fifty three, fifty four, fifty five…

The plastic brush slid through the golden blonde locks of hair, the count continuing as Summer sat in front of her mirror. Her thoughts drifted away but she kept count of how many times her brush went through her blonde locks, counting each stroke all the way up to one hundred. Her mother had taught her to, and as a habit she'd acquired during her lifetime, she still counted how long it took her to brush the oils through her hair. And she did it every night before she went to sleep, even if she barely had time.

"One hundred." She set the brush down on her dresser and turned away from it, adjusting her yellow tank top over the black sweatpants, shuffling her bare feet across the wooden floor. She crossed over to the door to close it when a dark figure passed by it. "Good Night." She said softly, a slight smile on her face. He stopped and stepped into the light a little, his face set into its almost permanent scowl.

"Good night." Dillon replied looking at her with a slight smirk growing on his face. "Sweet dreams."

Summer's face transformed into a grin. "They usually are." _And usually involve you._ She added silently to herself. Her dreams had been increasingly good lately, always involving the mysterious black ranger. The dreams varied in what happened in them, sometimes they were fighting monsters, others they were just hanging out, but once and a while, Scott, Flynn, and Ziggy were pushed to the background and Dillon was the only clear face she saw.

"I'm happy for you." He smirked in response for her and she imitated his face.

"You don't ever have good dreams?"

"A few." He responded, his face sliding back into the stoic one he always had on. Summer instantly remembered their conversation only a few hours ago when he'd woken up from their battle. When he'd opened his eyes and said something that had made her heart stop. Then Dr. K said something that almost made it stop again.

"What are they like?" Summer inquired with a smile, leaning against her doorway.

"If you want to interview me I might as well come in." He teased her and went to step in jokingly.

"Ok." Summer stepped back and watched his face twist into the poor excuse for a smile that was pretty much a massive step for him. But instead of letting her call his bluff, he came in and sat on the foot of her bed, expecting her to protest but instead she closed her door and sat across from him at the head of her bed, pulling her soft yellow pillow into her lap and watching him. "Now answer the question."

Dillon frowned at her and leaned against the wall her bed was next to, his legs hanging off the other end. He was silent for a few minutes, and Summer was silent too, watching him think, a slight grin on her face. "Usually they're of the group." He finally muttered. "You know, Scott, Flynn, Ziggy," He paused, "And you." He stole a glance at her and she smiled.

"Mine too." She shifted her legs until they were crossed, smiling at him again. "Even when we're fighting battles, they always come across as good dreams in the end."

"And you think I'm not normal." Dillon scoffed at her, rolling his eyes and staring at her door, his eyes getting glassy. Summer leaned back against her headboard and closed her eyes for a second to think and then reopened them.

"What about your bad dreams?" She asked softly, knitting her eyebrows at him. Dillon looked at her for a few seconds, sighed deeply and started speaking. Over the next fifteen minutes, Dillon spilled every detail of his recurring dream, from the girl with the cane to the robots grabbing him, himself in a white sheet and an evil red light. Summer listened silently, her seat on the bed getting closer and closer to Dillon as he spoke, her heart breaking for his pain. He finished and they sat in silence for a minute, Summer taking in what he'd said, Dillon dealing with the memories.

Silently she reached over and wrapped her arms around him, not saying a word, just holding him. He didn't know what to do at first, but after a few seconds he awkwardly raised his arms and touched her back, trying in his own way to hold her. It wasn't that he didn't like her hugging him, which was the exact opposite of how he actually felt, but he didn't know how to deal with her sympathy for him. It was new and different, so he just held her, feeling her body relax into his after a while. With his strength she wasn't a burden to hold, but her weight fell against his left arm and he lowered it a little, her body sliding down so that her face was leaning against his chest, tear stains on her cheeks.

She'd fallen asleep in his arms. Hugging him she'd fallen asleep with her arms tucked around him, and now since he'd readjusted her, she moved her arm so that she was curling into his embrace, subconsciously pressing herself into him. He didn't know what to do. Summer was sleeping in his arms, her face wrinkled in the pain, pain for him. Sympathy for him. It was hard to wrap his head around this; she was feeling pain for him, and was now sleeping in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his shoulder.

Hours later Summer returned to consciousness, she felt a warm body next to hers and her eyes shot open, looking up at the black mass surrounding her, blocking the light from invading her vision. Somehow she'd ended up on her side, tucked into the arms of a sleeping black ranger. She pulled herself back and propped herself up to look at him, his face relaxed as he slept in the corner of her bed and the wall. The last thing Summer remembered was hugging him, and then feeling really drowsy in his arms, then waking up next to him. She smiled at the sight of him without any tension in his face, relaxed in sleep. But it didn't last as his eyes fluttered open.

"Morning." She grinned at him and he knit his eyebrows together and looked at the window, eyes narrowed from the light. "I guess we fell asleep." She whispered softly, glancing down at his arm that was still firmly around her waist.

"Guess so." Dillon mumbled, moving his hand a little but not removing it.

"Good dreams?" Summer asked with a smile as she lay her head back down on his arm.

"Best one yet," He answered, closing his eyes again, "And I'm really glad it's not over."

"Me too." She snuggled closer to him, sighing contentedly. "Me too."


	2. Nuestro Amor

**Nuestro Amor**

(I was asked if I was going to write another, and I honestly didn't think I was… but at the end of Ghosts… I couldn't resist! Spoiler alert, but enjoy :D (Nuestro Amor means our love))

Twenty Seven. There were exactly twenty seven tiles on the ceiling of the room that she lived in. How many times she'd counted them, she didn't know, but lying on her back on her bed in her room, Summer didn't want to think about why she was counting them. Counting was busywork, something she did to distract her mind from the ever present figure that constantly plagued it.

Dillon.

Summer groaned as the thought of him entered her brain again, and rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in her pillow. She punched the side of her pillow and then pressed the edges over her ears. It didn't do any good, but as she was so frustrated, it was all she could do, anything else would alert the attention of the other guys on the team.

Guys. God there were too many on this team. Summer sat up and hugged her pillow thinking. Four guys and her at first, and now Gem, and Gemma, the two weirdos that Dr. K knew from the Alphabet Soup program were here, but still, six guys to two girls, even Dr. K didn't really count, she didn't fight with them, and didn't exactly hang out with them all the time. But Summer did. And she had to deal with the guys being… well guys. Men were complicated.

Dillon was no exception.

Annoyed at how he surfaced in her thoughts _again_, she got up and started pacing her room, a strange feeling in her legs that made it feel like she needed to walk, move, do anything but sit here and feel sorry for herself.

But seriously, was it so hard to talk to a girl? You spend the night in her room, sleeping in the same bed, granted nothing happened, but to act like _nothing_ had happened, it irked her. It more than irked her; it made her furious, and made her want to kick his butt.

But she couldn't.

Summer flung herself down on her bed and stared once more at the ceiling. She couldn't hate him. She couldn't be mad at him. She could only be mad at herself for wanting to hate him, because somehow his cool attitude was her fault, wasn't it? Or was that night just a fluke? Did she dream it? She certainly hadn't dreamed that conversation with Dr K about Scott and Dillon.

Summer frowned whenever she thought of that conversation, and now closed her eyes to try and sooth her feelings. It was true she'd had a little crush on Scott when she'd first met him, but the first time she met the brooding black ranger, she didn't understand the feelings at first. As the months dragged on, they became closer, and that night, almost two weeks ago now, had meant the world to her, except he didn't mention it. He hadn't mentioned it at all, in face it seemed like he was ignoring her, when was the boneheaded idiot going to say something? Anything?!

Suddenly her bed bowed down from a weight on it and her eyes opened immediately, looking up at the offender.

"Hey". He said it simply and with his usual smirk.

"Hey." She whispered, pulling the soft fuzzy yellow blanket next to her up to her face and covering her mouth and nose with it, leaving her eyes clear to look up at him. He didn't say anything else and raised his eyebrows at how she was hiding.

"It might be hard to talk with that there." He said gently, and pulled the blanket away.

"Who said I want to talk?" Summer tired to be angry with him, but her voice failed her and it came out slightly more pathetic than she meant it.

"Alright." Dillon agreed to her terms, but didn't leave, just laid down on the bed next to her, their heads nearly touching, but their body's angled away from each other at about thirty degrees. Summer glanced over at him a few times, but he stared at the ceiling, not blinking, not moving, just staring. The silence was killing her.

"Fine." The word almost exploded out of Summer's mouth, and she turned her head toward Dillon, who was still staring.

"Fine what?" He asked innocently, still not looking at her.

"What did you want to talk about?" Summer asked softly, trying to use her voice to get him to look. It worked, his head turned and their eyes met, inches apart. He paused for a few seconds, seconds that seemed to each stretch on for minutes that also seemed interminable.

"You're the answer." He mumbled finally, a response that seemed like it almost hurt him to say.

"Excuse me?" Summer's heart leapt in her chest.

"I'm not good at this." Dillon muttered and turned his face back toward the ceiling. Summer knit her eyebrows and sat up, leaning on one arm and looking slightly down toward him.

"Not good at what?" She asked, confused to exactly what he meant. Dillon sat up and pushed her down gently, shocked, Summer did it anyway but was more shocked at what came next. He pressed his lips gently to hers, and she closed her eyes, pushing back gently, prolonging the kiss. Summer's heart was soaring, she felt like nothing else in the world mattered at that moment, nothing, nada, not even the impending doom outside of their domed city. The bliss ended too soon when he pulled away; she opened her eyes to look at him over her. They just looked at each other for a while, until Summer reached her on arm up, hooking her hand around his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

"I'm not good at that." He murmured to her. "I'm not good at emotions, I barely know who I am, and it's hard to not know that, but have these feelings for you." For the first time ever, Summer saw Dillon as vulnerable, he was putting himself out there, and she had the opportunity to see the person that the others knew was in there, but would never see.

"I think you're wrong." She finally managed to work her voice.

"Really." Dillon's voice was unbelieving, the guarded façade returned to his demeanor.

"Yep." Summer shifted her back slightly and looked into his eyes. "You're very good at _this_." She pulled on his neck, and their lips connected again, this time the pure bliss turning into a fiery passion as they kissed the second time. Dillon used his enhanced arm to hold up his body while the other slid under Summer's back and grabbed her shoulder, while both of her arms were wrapped around his neck. Dillon pulled his head back and rested his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, the gentleness returning to his voice. "I'm confused."

"I know." Summer replied, tilting her face so that their noses were touching. "Take your time, I'll be here." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. No premeditation went into those words, but she knew it was true. She'd wait for him until the world ended, and since they were already in a post-apocalyptic world, there wasn't long to wait. Even then, she'd wait as long as it took to destroy Venjix and whatever other evil necessary to get his memories and the world back.


End file.
